Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

"What have you done, you stupid girl?" Mary hissed as we walked down the path to the market place. I ignored her, stopping for a moment and turning around.

"You know, I'd rather not walk. Might spoil the dress," I sighed, putting a hand over my stomach and trying very hard to breathe in. Mary crossed her arms over her chest, and then looked down.

"Christina, you simply must unlace this corset, at once! I'm practically popping out of this dress. Its not proper to go out like this in public! What if someone recognizes me?" she said desperately.

"Then they will treat you with the respect as befitting to your station, my dear. After all, you are with me, and as regrettable as it is, I am the governor's daughter. That commands a certain amount of respect," I said disgustedly. It was unbelievably hot outside, and the dress had already begun to itch. But there was no time to think of that now, as our carriage had pulled up, compliments of my father, who was just now, on my twentieth summer, beginning to realize that I, too, am alive; and the world does not revolve around the little rat named Elizabeth.

"Do not worry, dear, it will all be over soon," I said, and she glared at me once again. I sighed and sat back, rattling a bit as the carriage flew over the road. I pulled open the curtain slightly, closing it as Mary yelped when we flew up a few inches because of a rock or something of the sort.

"Mary, you really must control yourself. We're here, out you get," I said, as the driver opened the door. He held out a gloved hand for Mary, grinning at her slyly. She flushed up to the roots of her hair and cast her gaze down. I distinctly heard him say, "Don't worry, my dear, your secret's safe with me."

I grinned and nodded to him as he helped me out. "Mary, if you are to play the part of a stuck up noblewoman, you certainly cannot blush and look away when our driver helps you out of the carriage," I muttered to her. She glared at me and pulled out a fan, being much more skilled with it than I was, and fluttered it by her face.

"I knew this was a horrible idea. This is the last time I ever listen to you," she hissed angrily.

"So you say now," I answered, shrugging. The driver bowed to us, and we nodded, turning to leave. "So, where do you want to go first?" I asked, a smile on my face. Mary made no sound, only looked around nervously, anticipating whether or not someone would recognize her. I sighed. "Why don't we go look at dresses?" I asked dryly, and she turned to meet my gaze.

"Could we really?" she asked eagerly. I sighed. Another Elizabeth, ready to torture me, I presume.

"Why not? The dress shop is certainly my favorite place in the world," I said sarcastically. The sarcasm flew right over her head and hit someone behind her, judging from the odd look I received. Mary nodded, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

"Oh, thank you so much, Christina! I've always fancied the dresses you wore, but never had the opportunity to wear one!" she said, practically squealing. I nodded glumly, and walked off to the dress shop, where I'd gone with my sister more times than I care to remember.

When we walked in, a dove greeted us at the door. Mary cooed to it, and picked up a seed from tray next to the cage, delicately offering it to the animal. Already she was picking up the parts of acting as a lady should, softly talking to the bird in a sweet voice.

"Ah, Miss Swann, so nice to see you again, where is your lovely sister?" the owner of the shop, Mrs. Dawson said, bustling over.

I smiled, "Nice to see you too, Mrs. Dawson. Unfortunately, Elizabeth hasn't left the house since she returned, except at that pirate's execution, which, as you know, never quite worked out," I said.

The older woman's face darkened. "Ah, yes. What a shame that scoundrel escaped, no doubt off to traumatize more delicate women. And Elizabeth, the poor dear, do tell her that I wish her well and hope to see her soon. And you dear, weren't you off with those pirates, and Mr. Turner?" she asked, looking at me sharply. I looked down.

"Yes, I was."

Mrs. Dawson smiled thinly. "But you must know that it isn't a woman's place to go out with a band or rogues. Shame on Mr. Turner, letting you come along. He should know better."

The woman was beginning to get annoying. "I'm afraid that it is not the place to talk about such things, Mrs. Dawson. Especially now, when I'm just happy to have my sister back at home," I said. So glad to have her here, making my life miserable again. Mrs. Dawson nodded.

"I'd like to introduce you to my friend, Mary. She came here from London a bit earlier than I did, and has been hiding away on the other side of town. I've only just become reacquainted with her a few weeks ago," I said, motioning for Mary to walk over. Mary's cheeks tinged pink, and she nodded at Mrs. Dawson, who squinted back at her.

"Have you come here before? You look awfully familiar, my dear," the older woman said. Mary looked stunned and shook her head vigorously. I sighed.

"Mary's terribly shy, Mrs. Dawson, but no, I don't believe you have met her before. She rarely leaves her mansion," I said, laying it on real thick. Mary'd have my head for this later.

"Oh, and why's that, my dear? A pretty thing like you would want to get out. I'm sure you have many suitors lined up, how will you keep them all entertained?"

"That's very bold, Mrs. Dawson," I said warningly. The woman smiled at me. She was the type of woman at Port Royal who always knew all the gossip, and generally from primary sources. As the owner of the best dress shop, it is understandable. She was highly capable of making friendly conversation as she measured women for their dresses, and every woman on the island wanted to be on Mrs. Dawson's good side as she was the finest seamstress Port Royal had to offer.

"Yes, I live ever so far away, that I'd have to take a carriage to get here. And I fear that I feel ill every time I come near one," Mary was saying, her voice timid, but I could tell that she was doing her very best at lying. I was so proud of her. I hid a smile as Mrs. Dawson ate the whole thing up.

"Poor dear. Well, I'm happy that you could come today. Anything in particular that you're interested in?" she asked. We walked throughout the shop, and Mary ran her hands over every fabric imaginable, cooing and gasping and sighing at nearly every one. Now, as much as I detest being in this store, with all the gossip that I am subjected to, it really isn't all that bad. The dresses are beautiful, and as much as I despise the typical reaction that I have to it, I really do enjoy shopping. Mary and I must have walked through the shop three times, and she told me that she'd never dreamed that dresses could come in so many colors. There were red dresses, cream dresses, green dresses, gray dresses, orange, yellow, pink, striped, printed, flowered, long sleeves, short sleeves, off the shoulder and coifed, embroidered and jeweled, and Mary nearly got teary eyed at each and every one.

"They're so beautiful," she sighed. I frowned, feeling terrible that she looked at them so longingly.

"I'll buy you one, Mary," I said. She looked up sharply.

"You mustn't!"

"And why not? Mary, you've done so much for me over the years," I said, lowering my voice. Mrs. Dawson looked up, and then looked down, pretending that she wasn't listening. I didn't particularly care.

"When I would sneak out to visit Will, you kept my secret. I do owe you," I whispered.

Mary shook her head. "You've done enough already," she protested.

"No. Consider it an early Christmas gift, dear. Now which dress do you like?" I asked. Mary shook her head, but I'd seen her eyeing the gray one, fingering its lacy edges and its corset embroidered with navy blue. Along the collar, which was really off the shoulder, there were tiny pearls sewn in, and the sleeves were silk and tight. It really was magnificent.

"Mrs. Dawson," I called, and the woman hurried over quickly.

"I'll take that gray one, for my dearest friend, and the lavender for me," I said, and she hurried to take them down.

"Jerome!" she called towards that back of the shop. I heard someone shouting back, muffled, and Mrs. Dawson sighed and turned to me.

"I'll have them delivered to your home, Miss Swann, if that boy ever gets moving," she said with a nervous smile. I nodded and turned to Mary.

"You shouldn't have done that, Christina," she said slowly. I shrugged and was about to answer when Jerome bounded out from the back of the shop.

"What is it, Mother? I've been working for the whole bleeding day," he asked tiredly, and then looked up to meet my eyes.

"Mind your tongue, boy, cant you see we have customers? And the Governor's daughter, too!" Mrs. Dawson scolded, whapping her son over the head with a rag. He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, Miss Swann, I didn't see you," he said.

"Please, don't trouble yourself about it," I said. And stop bloody calling me Miss Swann, I thought angrily. I'd known Jerome since Elizabeth had gotten obsessed with dresses, and all he'd done was tease me about her great beauty, and my great lack. It had gotten so bad, once, that I'd punched him in the nose. After that he never teased me again, and we'd both had bruises for weeks, mine on my hand, and him on his face. He'd told his mother that he'd fallen off the rafters while checking inventory. I had to tell my father that I'd got my hand caught in the door.

"And who is this, might I ask, Miss Swann?" Jerome said, looking at Mary. He brushed his sandy blond hair out of his eyes, which were roving in emerald tracks up and down her, finally resting on her face. She blushed and looked away, and I grinned.

"This is my dearest friend, Mary," I said.

"Does Mary have a last name?" Jerome said slyly, earning a glare from his mother. Mary looked up shyly and answered.

"Pearl," she whispered.

Jerome smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Pearl," he said, bowing to her and catching my eye. I sighed and grabbed her arm.

"Thank you for the dresses, Mrs. Dawson. See you soon, I hope. And with Elizabeth, too," I said, dragging Mary out the door.

"Mary, love, you really mustn't go to mush when some bloke asks your name. You just told him your last name…not the wisest thing to be done!" I said. She glared at me.

"No, I didn't. I told him my mother's maiden name. My last name is Porter," she said.

"Close enough," I growled, walking quickly away from there.

She sighed. "I'm in trouble now, aren't I?" she asked. We sat down outside a shop, I was so distracted I didn't realize where we were.

"I don't see why you should be in trouble. You aren't doing anything wrong," I said. She looked at me as if I had two heads.

"Nothing wrong? Christina, I'm impersonating a lady, and skipping work, and wearing your one of your dresses!" she said. As if it were the end of the world.

"Actually, that dress is Elizabeth's," I said. Mary's eyes widened.

"Have you gone mad! You gave me one of her dresses? I'm as good as dead, now," she moaned. I shrugged.

"You worry too much. If you get found out, I'll tell my father it was my idea. He'll have to believe me, because it's just natural for me to cause trouble," I said. "How about we go for a cup of tea?" I asked, standing up. Suddenly the door behind me opened up, and out walked my sister, followed by Will. It was then that I realized that Mary and I had been sitting outside of Mr. Brown's smithy.

"Oh!" Mary and Will said.

"What are you doing here?" my sister and I asked.

"Why are you with her?" Elizabeth and Mary asked, Mary asking Will, and Elizabeth asking me. I looked at Will, who looked a bit embarrassed, and then at Elizabeth.

"What have you done?" I said to her, through clenched teeth. She stared at me icily.

"Father needed to drop off and order for Mr. Brown, and since Mary wasn't anywhere to be found, I offered to do it. I need to visit Mrs. Dawson, anyway," she said. I looked at Will, who was looking at me, and then looked away.

"Oh, really, is that it?" I asked. Elizabeth nodded.

"You've not done a great job of looking innocent," I snapped.

"Oh please, Christina, as if I'd want anything that had belonged to you," Elizabeth snapped.

"That's my dress you're wearing," I said coldly. Elizabeth blinked. "And my necklace," I hissed, my voice breaking. Because really, it didn't matter to me that she had taken my dress, or my necklace, but it just proved her disregard for things that were mine. Like Will's heart. Although now I was wondering if I really had that at all. No, wait, I'd been wondering that for a while now.

"Yes, and what is your little friend wearing? I believe that dress is mine," Elizabeth said smartly.

"And would you look at that, your friend looks awfully familiar, Christina. Perhaps if she'd stayed back at the mansion where she belonged, I wouldn't have had to come all the way here and visit dear Mr. Turner," she said.

"If you breathe one word of this to father, I swear I'll rip your heart out and feed it to you," I growled. Will looks surprised that such death threats could fly between siblings, but Elizabeth merely raised an eyebrow.

"As if I haven't heard that from you before, Christina. Besides, I think I've got something much better than the satisfaction of telling father how one of his maids skived off to impersonate someone that she'd never become, don't you think? It's been nice talking to you, Will," she said sweetly. I watched her as she walked away, and found myself wishing that she'd spontaneously combust. No such luck, my sister got into her carriage and drove away.

"Christina, I -" Will said. I looked up at him with wide eyes, and it vaguely registered how Mary was fidgeting nervously by my side.

"I didn't do anything I swear, all she did was drop off the request for the sword," he said quickly. I looked away, needing to believe him so badly, especially after the row we'd had last night.

"Do you promise?" I whispered. I felt him touch my chin lightly and make me look into his yes. "

Yes, I promise, I love you," he said. I sighed and nodded, and watched as he leaned down to kiss me. And as much as I wanted him to, I turned my head to the side and felt his lips brush softly over my cheek. Something felt wrong, and I wished that I could get that horrible feeling out of the pit of my stomach. I met his eyes again, and saw that he was being honest, or else was a very good actor.

"I'll see you around, Will, Mary and I have some more shopping to do," I said.

"But I heard you say that you were going for a cup of tea," he said, grabbing my arm. I smiled weakly, still trying to get my heart to believe what he'd just promised me. "Could I come with you?" he asked. Mary nudged me in the side and nodded, but I slowly shook my head.

"Don't you have some orders to work on, Will? Two days, and then come by they mansion and we'll have lunch, all right? Mary and I, we just need some girl time," I said quietly. He nodded, and perhaps it was just my hopeful imagination, but he looked at bit pale.

"Alright," he said hoarsely. I bit my lip and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek - the one that Elizabeth hadn't gotten her tramp's lips all over.

"See you around, Will," I said, walking away. Part of me was wishing that he'd run after me, but he didn't. I heard the door to the blacksmith shop slam as Mary and I walked down the street.

"Well, I believed him," Mary said, as we sat down at a nice outdoor table and awaited our tea. I sighed and fumbled with the edge of my fan, that was sitting closed in my lap.